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She grinned. “You must be important if you had to block out a lunch so people left you alone.”
She obviously had no clue who he was and he was oddly thrilled with that. Now he knew how West felt when he met Abby in Aruba.
“Probably not as important as I think I am,” he said, smirking.
“You’re funny too.” Her eyes dropped to his left hand. “I know you’re not married. I mean if you were, you wouldn’t have come to my rescue the other day. But do you have a girlfriend or something that you’d get in trouble with by having lunch with me?”
“No one,” he said. Which made him think that this was really a thank you lunch and maybe not a date as he hoped.
He was persuasive, he was sure he could change her mind.
There was the little thing of their fake engagement to those in the coffee shop. It’d be low for him to use that, but if it helped him to get to know Lilian better, why not?
For all he knew, she could be a gold digger like everyone else he seemed to come in contact with. If not for him, then to get to his brother.
He wasn’t sure what was worse.
“Good,” she said. “Do you just want to meet in the lobby at one on Thursday?”
“We can do that,” he said. They were at the corner and he could tell she didn’t want to move any further and give him an idea of her location. The right thing to do was go back and get a taxi and let her feel comfortable. “I guess I’ll head back now.” He was already going in the opposite direction that he needed to, but since she was walking and bypassed the subway, he was guessing she didn’t live that far.
“See you in a few days, Braylon.”
“The same, Lilian.”
He turned and went back, then moved to the side of the road and lifted his arm for a taxi. By the time he turned his head she was lost in the crowd. He had no idea if she crossed the street in any direction or just turned the corner.
Maybe he’d find that out in a few days.
The taxi pulled over to the side and he got in, gave his address to his condo and sat back for the drive. It was only fifteen minutes away in traffic. Could be worse and since he got out earlier than normal, it did take an additional five minutes.
The doorman was waiting with the door open when he got out of the taxi. “Good evening, Mr. Carlisle.”
“Benjamin, how are you this lovely night?”
“Doing great,” Benjamin said. The older man should be retired but said he loved the job he’d had for forty years. He knew the guy got overlooked by most of the residents, but he’d never do that.
Braylon didn’t forget where he came from. How little they had with his mother raising eight kids with a part-time job as a widow collecting her late husband’s pension from the Army.
Things were tight, but they had each other.
Then West made one good investment after another and his youngest sibling didn’t know what it was like to struggle, have debt, or worry about how they were going to pay their rent.
West had given their mother the life she deserved and all his siblings had careers they handpicked. They had to work for it, make no mistake, but it’s not like they had to dig and grind like West, he, and Laken did while they were in college.
West took care of their student loans for them too when he was able. He’d forever be thankful for that and the opportunities.
And for those reasons, he always made sure men like Benjamin got a good tip each week and gifts on every holiday.
It’s not like he carried cash on him all the time or even thought of it, but at the end of the day on Friday, he’d slip the doorman a couple of bills matching his name. Discreetly in a handshake like he’d been doing for the three years he’d lived here.
“That’s good to hear,” Braylon said, shaking his hand. He did it daily. To him, the guy deserved the respect and then no one ever wondered about the weekly tip. It’s not like he did it to be seen or acknowledged and never would.
“You enjoy your night, Mr. Carlisle.”
“The same to you, Benjamin.”
He rode the elevator to the fifth floor. He couldn’t afford the penthouse here. West could, but Braylon would never expect his brother to buy things for him like that.
